Coming to a Solution
by Heaven'sKnight15
Summary: This is the tale of twelve passengers on the Titanic and how they found love in strangest of ways. Fail Summary. Awesome Story on the inside! Rated M for Language, Death, and future Yaoi.
1. The Man in the Picture is Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**HK15:… don't ask why I decided to do this but in all my wisdom (and fangirlism) I've decided to do a crossover with Hetalia and Titanic. It could be that I just saw the movie again and my pervy mind went to town or I read too many fanfics on both. I'm trying to keep with the movies theme but also make it original (in its own way) so most of the dialogue will be straight out of the movie (But with Romano's potty mouth it's going to be tricky). Hope you all like this and not throw cabbages at me. **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

An old man stud, looking out into the surf not far from his home, lost in thought. His once light blond hair had turned white and his skin now wrinkled from age.

The man was old, maybe a bit too old, but he promised someone he would live a long life and he intended to keep that promise. He could hear his grandson bustling about in the kitchen, making dinner perhaps, he didn't know. It didn't hold the man's interest; he was too busy looking out to sea when he heard something.

"-they say you're a grave robber?"

"That would be far from the truth, love. What we are doing is preserving a valuable piece of history right here." The camera pointed down to an old picture of a naked man with and nothing but an Irish Cross for cover. The man himself looked to be about eighteen maybe twenty with short, silk like hair and had a well toned body but what caught the attention of the Russian was the Irish cross that laid gently on his chest.

"This Cross is worth more than the average diamond-"

That's when his grandson came in. "D-dedushka, w-what is i-it?" He stuttered out but his grandfather didn't seem to hear him, far gone in his own thoughts.

The elder toned out the rest of the conversation on the television and could only muster out an, "I'll be God damned."

* * *

Far out in the Atlantic a very irritated Brit and his team were readying for another dive when Angus, one of his crew and best mate, called over to him.

"Arthur you got a call!" He shouted over the machinery and equipment. The bushy eye browed man gave an irritated shake of the head, the resent failure still hitting him hard, and gestured angrily to the submarines, "Do you not see we're getting ready for a dive, ya git!"

"Trust me you want to take this call, ungrateful wanker!" The Scott muttered the last part under his breath and thankful went unnoticed by his superior.

Finally giving in he took the phone from the redhead and put it to his ear, "Who exactly is this?" He asked Angus.

"An Ivan Braginski Shepherd- oh and speak up he's kinda old!" The Scott shouted back. Putting the phone to his ear once more he listened for this 'Ivan Braginski Shepherd'.

"'ello ,this is Arthur Kirkland."

"Ah yes, Mr. Kirkland, I was just wondering if have you found the Irish Cross, da?" A Russian accented voice echoed back. The Brit's bright eyes lit up and he mouth when a gap. Angus gave him an all knowing smirk.

"Told you you wanted to take the call." He teased.

Arthur gave him a 'sod off' glare but returned his attention to the man on the other line.

"You now have my attention Ivan. Can you tell me who the man in the picture is?" He was rewarded with a soft giggle.

"Oh yes Mr. Kirkland, the man in the picture is me."

* * *

**And I did it! I honestly don't know why I made this but I might as well try it. If it doesn't work out then, oh well. **

**Reviews!**


	2. Going Back to Titanic

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

"I'm telling you he's a God damn liar, bastard!" An angry Italian roared over the sound of the wind and his boss' frantic moving about.

Arthur didn't look back at the vulgar Italian as he made his way to the deck where Ivan and his grandson would be arriving. Finally after all these years he would be one step closer to finding the Irish Cross and one step closer to being one of the richest men alive.

"I've done a background check on his asshole since the twenties he was an actor back then, there's a red flag there dumbass. He met this man named Mathew or whatever and they pounded out a couple of fucking kids. If he had been on the Titanic and not gone down with the fucking ship he would be over a hundred fucking years by now!"

"A hundred and one next month," Arthur answered back, far to distracted to be paying attention or scold the brunette for the foul mouthing. He had a little brother on board and as much as Peter annoyed him, and he's using the term very loosely, he didn't want another sailor mouth around deck.

Lovino's face went red when his boss ignored his argument.

"Okay so he's a really old God damn lying bastard!" Before he could add more they had already made it to the deck.

"They're inbound!" One of the flight crew shouted. Arthur gave a nod of his head and Lovino crossed his arms with a peeved look on his face. The wind grew stronger when the helicopter landed on the deck and crew preceded to unloaded the luggage.

Arthur and Lovino's eyes widened at amount this man carried, there must have been at least seven suit cases and they were about the size of Peter!

"Bastard doesn't travel light, does he?" Lovino cackled non to quietly. Arthur elbowed him in the rib.

Coming out of the aircraft was an old man with pure white hair and violet eyes. Surprisingly enough for someone so old he wasn't wheel chair bound but still needed assistance exiting the helicopter. Not far behind him was a short boy that looked to be in his mid teens.

Walking up to the two Arthur greeted them. "'ello Mr. Shepherd, I'm Arthur Kirkland!" He shoke hands with the Russian and was about to lead them to their rooms when a fish bowl was shoved into his arms.

* * *

Ivan and his grandson were setting up his pictures when there was a knock at his door.

"Da?" He asked.

In came Arthur, Lovino and Angus behind him, Lovino looking peeved as usual. "Have settled in alright?" The Russian smiled and replied, "Oh yes, thank you. Have you met my grandson Raivis, he takes care of me?" The small blond gave a shy smile before placing the last of the photos on the nightstand.

"Nice to meet you Raivis. Mr. Shepherd can I get you anything?" Ivan looked up from one of the many black and white pictures and gave the Brit a grin.

"Why yes, I would like to see my drawing."

* * *

Ivan stared down into the small water container that held the drawing. It looked exactly like it had the last time the Russian had saw it. He closed his aged violet eyes, thinking back to the strawberry blond head of hair that would occasionally look up to his own eyes from behind the sketchpad.

"- King Louie the Eight had lost more than just his head. The diamond was cut into the shape of a cross, earning the name the Irish Cross because Ireland had gotten their hands on it for a few decades." Ivan was brought out of his memory by Arthur's rambling.

"Was that really you, Dedushka?" Raivis asked, for once not stuttering his little bum off. Ivan gave a look of exasperation. "It is me, wasn't I a dish."

"Now can you tell me who bought it, Ivan?"

Ivan gave a knowing smile and answered, "I believe her name was Natalia." For once Lovino cracked a small grin and Angus smirked over at him. They're getting closer.

"Good, it was addressed in utter secretes to the spouse of Ms. Natalia. You." Arthur concluded.

The Brit then proceeded to show the Russian the different pieces of jewelry and items that were taken from his room on Titanic. Ivan's eyes widened when he found his big sisters flower clip. It hadn't changed a bit besides the color. "This, this was my big sisters! How extraordinary! I had given this to her when we were children." He turned the sunflower clip over in his hand, reminiscing at the soft texture.

He looked at the other trinkets and found something that made his heart clench. His scarf. The one he had been wearing the night he had his picture had been drawn.

Arthur stood next to Ivan and asked, "Are you ready to back to Titanic, Ivan?" Ivan closed his eyes and placed the flower clip back on the table. He walked over to the televisions on the other side of the room and found one of them was focused on the dining hall.

Ivan could still hear the soft music and the chatter of the first class. He let out a deep breath; it was a lot to take in.

"Ivan can you please tell us anything that you remember, anything at all." Arthur had pulled out a tape recorder, he and his colleges had had taken their seat and were waiting for the Russian to begin.

Ivan let out another shaky breath, "It's been eight-four years." He began but was interrupted by the Brit.

"That's alright, just tell us anything you can remember, love." Arthur pleaded with desperate eyes, which made Ivan raise an eyebrow. "Do you want to hear a story, Mr. Kirkland?"

The other in the room chuckled, the guy maybe old but he still had a sense of humor.

The Russian took another deep breath before beginning. "It's been eighty- four years and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used; the sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was the Ship of Dreams… and it was, it really was."

* * *

**And I have the second chapter up. I hope I kept everyone in character (England was hard to do). Anyways I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. **

**Please review!**


	3. Departure

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**HK15:... I still don't know why I'm doing this (stupid fangirl fantasizes!) but hope you're all enjoying it. Wonder would will show up this chapter *shifty eyes*. Thank you for the reviews! **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

The bright sun of the early morning beamed down upon the magnificent white liner that stud proudly by the docks. It looked like some Roman or Greek god but it far greater than that, it looked as though it had just risen from the very depths of the seas, pristine, polished and revitalized, made perfectly for its passengers. Any crewmembers onboard resembled little black dots and even the tallest man would have been overshadowed by the acclaimed Ship of Dreams.

A crowd, of what seemed to be millions of people from all walks of life, lined the edge of the pier. Many embraced their family members, close friends, or even people they just met tightly before they withdrew, prepared to set off and brave America, while others waved excitedly and cried out their farewells and good wishes.

Suddenly, there was a parting within the large crowd as a two golden brown Renault automobiles pulled up at the old docks. When they finally came to a stopped, the stoic driver, with little to no expression, of the first car stepped out and quickly unfastened the passenger seat door handle. Immediately after the door had swung open an elegantly dressed young man in a striking black suit with matching bowler hat and ashen scarf stepped out and stared at the enormous vesicle with hidden fascination.

He had platinum blonde hair and bright lilac orbs that were noticeable even from afar. His eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing the glorious floating beast from end to end, before he sneered distastefully. He remembered why he was taking this maiden voyage in the first place.

Turning elegantly to his fiancé he made his complains known, "I don't see what all the fuss is about… it's nothing compared to the Mauretania." A beautiful young woman gave a scoffed before pointing back to the giant vesicle with her purple umbrella.

"You can be picky about many things, Vanya, but not Titanic. It's far more luxurious and at least a hundred feet longer then Mauretania." The blonde haired women then helped out an elder looking lady as another girl, Ivan sister Katyusha, as she chatted with them. Ivan was seething on the inside, only his sister was allowed to call him Vanya, not this nut case.

"Your son is hard to amuse Winter." Natalia whisper none too quietly to the elder aristocrat. The woman gave a light hearted chuckled as she too looked at the acclaimed ship.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable." Her daughter nodded her head eagerly in agreement. The ocean liner was a sight to be seen.

"Unsinkable!" Natalia gasped, "God himself couldn't skin this ship-" She was interrupted by one of the servants of the white star crew asking that they go through the terminal but was quickly silenced by a twenty in his pocket.

Looking down at her pocket watch Natalia grabbed Ivan's arm and said, "It's time for us to depart or we will be late." She then proceeded to all but drag the poor Russian over to the gangway for first class passengers, his other family members not far behind. They had gotten there just in time to avoid going amongst the commoners.

Natalia sneered at them from a distance, they were so filthy! They don't deserve to be in the same location as her precious Vanya. Ivan took notice of the sneer but held his tongue. For a woman, his future wife was very tenacious and strong willed but… not in a good way.

As the four passengers made their way up the gangway Ivan couldn't help but feel dread. This ship wasn't one of dreams, at least not to him, if anything it was taking him back to America in chains. On the outside he was everything a well brought up gentleman should be. On the inside, however, he was screaming.

* * *

Not far away from the glorious ship was an old pub. The occupants were biding their time with drinking, smoking, very little conversation but there was a very epic game of poker took place. There were two Nordics, one from Denmark the other from Norway.

"You stupid idiot, you bet our tickets!" The smaller one growled, breaking his usually composed face. The Dane shot back.

"Well you bet all our money!"

On the other side of the table were two Irish blokes or… they appeared to be two Irish blokes? The smallest, though not by much, was Kendy Shepherd, a traveling musician and lover of all things alcohol. Unlike mass population of women she was not dressed in a heavy petty coat or air constricting corset, no instead she was dressed much like her brother. Pants with overalls, a button up shirt, a pair of beat up boots, and a think jacket their father had worn.

Whenever someone would ask why she dressed so disrespectfully in public she would often laugh and reply, "and be dressed up like a clown? Hell no!"

Next to her was a tall, strawberry blonde haired man with a light dash of freckles on his nose. His name was Shamus Shepherd, Kendy's older brother and traveling artist. Though he was more responsible than Kendy he was still just as bad of a drunk as her.

Never leave a keg of beer out in the open when those two are around.

"Hit me," he called over to Mathias in his best Danish. The Dane complied and gave him his next card. Looking over at his sister he realized something. Their lives were about to change drastically.

"Alright, moment of truth. Someone's life is about to change." He stated dramatically. On any normal occasion Kendy would roll her eyes but this was different. In all her brother's wisdom, or idiocy, he bet everything they had, even her prized fiddle. But, if Shamus hadn't screwed them over this time, they would have two tickets on the Titanic, tickets to freedom and a new life.

They could really use the Luck of Irish right now.

"Kendy." She threw down her cards, nothing.

"Nothing." Shamus looked at her with his best poker face which she returned with a scowl.

"Mathias." The Dane threw down his card and had nothing. There was a swell of hope in the brunette's eye, maybe her idiot of a brother hadn't-

"Wow, two of a pare, Lukas. Kendy, I'm sorry-"

That's when the smaller Celt's temper finally burst.

"Sorry, you bet everything we had, even my fiddle! How the hell and I going to pay back Logan-"

Placing a hand on Kendy's he replied back in a controlled voice. "I'm sorry Kendy but you not seeing Logan for a long time," What? The shorter Celt gave him a confused look when his stern face broke into a grin.

"Because we're going to America baby! Full House boys, _Woohoo!_" Shamus whooped and cheered, jumping out of his seat with a cheeky smile.

He totally fooled his sister this time.

Kendy's face lit up like a child on Christmas. They really won? They're really going to America?

"Yes! Ahaha in you faces!" She rubbed her brother victory in the Scandinavian's faces as she danced around the table like a loon. Okay maybe she's getting a little cocky. Promptly she grabbed the tickets off the grubby table and held them her hands like they were solid gold, hell, better then gold, they were platinum.

Lukas and Mathis, while the two siblings were going mad with happiness, had tackled each other to the ground in attempt to kill the other.

"I'm going to America!" Shamus cheered again as he kissed the tickets but was interrupted by one of the bar tenders. "No you don't Titanic leaves for America, in five minutes." The two looked at each other before taking all their wining, including Kendy's fiddle, and bolted out of the pub like rockets.

The two dogged and weaved through the crowds of people and carriages, nearly getting hit by a few automobiles.

"We're the luckiest son's a bitches in the world!" Shamus cried as he led the way, Kendy not far behind him. No one could wipe the bright smile off her face. She slapped him on the shoulder with her free hand.

"Yeah, you're one lucky bitch alright, because if we had lost I would have castrated you with a sponge." The younger Celt laughed as the two ran as hard and fast as their long legs could carry them. Their rug sacks pounded on their backs like a beating drum.

"Come on I thought you were fast!"

"Shut up ya git!"

"I would be a lot nicer to me if I were you seeing as how I have the tickets." Shamus teased but it fell short when he saw how massive the ship was. _How the hell does that beast stay afloat_? When he fell behind Kendy yanked his arm, knowing he would make them late.

"Wait! Stop we're passengers!" Shamus shouted when the white star crew started to detach the gangway for the third class.

They just in time. Seems like that Luck of the Irish finally pulled through for the Shepherd siblings.

"Have you to gone through inspection?" The officer asked the two.

Shamus took a deep breath in between pants, "Of course we did." He lied, "besides we don't have lice, we're Americans."

"Right then, come along!" The white star officer beckoned them across, not taking much notice the thickness of the young male accent or the fact the boy- that- looks- like- a- girl was practically salivating when she saw one of the passengers take out a flask.

He let the two Celts pass after taking a brief glance at their tickets.

The two were whooping the entire way as they made though the large vessel. The walls were a cream white and smelt of new paint. To think they would be the first to get in those bed sheets.

Kendy and Shamus went barreling through the doors that lead to the Aft Well Deck and saw nothing but ant like people, waving their hands like there's no tomorrow. The two imminently ran over to the Stern section and found a piece of railing that they could lean on. Everyone abord was waving their goodbyes or was hugging their loved ones that were with them.

It was quite a sight to be seen.

Shamus started waving and yelling in the different languages he had picked on this travels through Europe, but mostly in Dutch. "Tot ziens iedereen, zal ik je missen!" (Goodbye everyone, I'll miss you!)

Kendy poked him in the kidney, "Ya know someone?" She asked.

"Of course not, that's not the point," and he continued with his enthusiastic goodbyes. Shrugging her shoulders Kendy joined in but stuck with English. She wasn't a complete show off like a _certain _person. Him and all his foreign languages, Pff.

"Goodbye, I'll never forget you~!"

The crowd of people waved heatedly as the ship was being lead away by smaller boats, moving like giant, metal sea serpent on the prowl. It gracefully made its way out of the English Channel and out to sea, ready for her first maiden voyage in the great Atlantic.

* * *

… **and I did it! Thank God I finally finished this, yesterday I was so tired from chasing my little cousins so today I had a past of energy (and Pepsi). I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and if you guys have any questions or comments just review or PM me. **

**Thank you once again! **


	4. Passengers

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

"It's so beautiful, Antonio." Ziva sighed blissfully as she and her soon- to- be husband walked to their room through the crowded hallways of the second class. The ship was so magnificent, absolutely breathtaking. It smelt of fresh paint, new sheets, and the sea.

Nothing aboard the vessel had been used yet, they would be the first. Ziva patted her stomach and smiled, her little one will be so safe on this vessel, from what the newspapers had said this ship unsinkable.

Though Antonio and Ziva were only second class they still managed to get a room all to themselves, or, them and their little one.

"I know, Zizi, but this large vessel could never compare to you," he placed a kiss on her head before gushing, "and our little Tomato!" Ziva giggled when Antonio got all giddy, especially over the baby.

"Aw, Toni, I wish I could take a picture of this! You look so cute all gushy and giddy." The Israeli chirped happily as Antonio placed his warm hands over her slightly showing baby bump. This was pure and utter bliss to Ziva, knowing her baby would be loved by not only herself but Antonio as well.

The two lovers had met over three years ago and had been friends for two; the other was a very long, very distressing year with a turn of events that lead to them falling in love.

But despite everything they were a perfect match but their love did not come easy. The reason they're even on the Ship of Dreams and out for America was to get away from their home life and the heart ache their families pushed upon them.

They didn't approve of their love and the fact that Ziva was pregnant at the age of seventeen.

Before she had been arranged to marry some Hebrew boy from a very wealthy family but, Ziva being Ziva, wouldn't have it. She wanted to choose who she married and know that the love they had was real, not something born out of business plan or by her parents. But her arguments never sold well with the David family and neither did it with Antonio's so the two sold all their belongings and pitched themselves a ride on Titanic.

America wasn't the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave for nothing.

"Ah, we're here my Princess." Ziva giggled at the little nickname Toni picked out for her. It had originally been 'little Tomato' but after a little debating Ziva finally got her point across that the baby should have the name. After all, they would defiantly have their Papa's love for the bright red fruit.

"You're absolutely wonderful, Toni! I don't understand how anyone could leave you; our little one will be in good hands." She grinned as the Spaniard opened the cream colored door to their room, and finally getting out of the crowded hallway, picking up the small amount luggage the two carried with them.

Ziva skipped over to the bed and plopped herself down on the soft bedspread. Throwing her straw sun hat in a random direction and toeing off her brown boots she left out a content sigh. By the name of Israel she claimed the bed first!

"Ha ha, I was the first to touch this bed and now I can tell the entire world I did it before anyone else!" Antonio shook his head at her randomness before sitting next to her sprawled out form.

"You are so strange sometimes; Ziva, but I wouldn't have you any other way." He smiled down upon the Israeli girl as he intertwined his fingers with her own, feeling that soft, tanned skin of hers. He's so lucky to have such a kind, energetic soon- to- be- wife.

The Spaniard couldn't imagine life without her.

Under the request of Antonio, who was tired from rushing out early so morning and carrying the luggage, the couple decided to stay in their room for the day. Besides, it's not like they'll ever get a chance to stay on such a grand ship after it docks.

* * *

"Hey, Axel, get a move on you lazy butt!" Ciel shouted back to his traveling partner. The smaller blonde was not pleased with having to wait on the other, much stronger boy. He wasn't taller than him to just sit around and lag behind when they had their room to get to.

The taller, much shyer, blonde fallowed after Ciel with slightly flushed cheeks. The two had to run all the way from their room on the other side of town to the gangways of the third class and to their room. He may be fit from traveling all over Europe but it was still tiresome.

"Ciel, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm the one carrying the damn bags here and they're not exactly light." Axel sweat dropped, still panting from all the exercise. If only he ate this morning when he had the chance, now he's completely famished and won't get any food until later. Stupid Ciel and his lateness!

This wouldn't have happened had Ciel gotten up at a reasonable hour like the Luxembourgian had asked but knowing the very self absorbed Frog it was very unlikely it would have happened without some intense threatening and bargaining.

Waving a hand in a dismissive manner the two finally came to their room though it did take longer than needed. Thanks to the fact they couldn't read English to they had to ask around but found it hard with only a few people who spoke German.

"So this is our palace." Ciel hummed as he took a seat on the bottom bunk with a look of glee, finally some rest.

Once Axel was threw the door he dropped everything he was carrying, not caring that it might be fragile, and plopped down next to the French boy with a groan. He's so tired!

"Hey get your own bunk!"

"Shadup, I'm tired and don't care, go take the top bunk!" The older boy moaned out in pure exhaustion. Why can't Ciel just shut up and be a good boy for once?

"Why should I, I called this one first!" Ah yes now he remembers why, it's because Ciel is Ciel and he would be himself if he didn't act… so free willed. He's using the term very loosely mind you.

Looking up at him through long bangs he gave the smaller boy a light punch to the shoulder, "just take a nap, Ciel, some of us have sleeping problems ya know." The cream blonde puffed his cheeks and jumped off the bed and stomped out of the room.

Axel sighed and re-plopped down on the bed. For someone who's been in the third class all his life Ciel could be a real brat but, in rare moments, he can be the biggest sweetheart/good person you ever met. Though most of the time he's rather demanding and flirts more than he works, making life very hard.

Oh well, Axel thought, moving to America may be good for him. With that the German boy snuggled into the thin sheets of his coot and promptly took a well deserved nap, dreaming of the Statue of Liberty and his new life in America.

* * *

"Yo, Yuki, wake your cute little ass up!" A small figured boy narrowed his sleepy eyes as he looked at the fool who dared wake him. After last night's… _activities_ he could barely walk let alone keep his eyes open and that damned albino's teasing didn't help.

Groaning he merely turned over on his bed and tried to back to his dream land when he felt something wet on his face. Oh God don't tell him it-

Snapping his eyes open he slapped Gilbert, not too hard, but hard enough to get the other to stop licking his face.

The silverette backed away with a mischievous grin, "My awesomeness has prevailed!" He bellowed. The small oriental boy gave a sigh; these are one of those moments when he wonders who the mature one is out of the two of them.

Gilbert and Yuki were secret lovers, though in the bedroom it wasn't so secret. Gilbert had been traveling through that part of Asia at the time and decided to take a look at Thailand. After meeting each other over a year ago they found that even though they were both men they had this deep attraction for one another. At first it was just friends with benefits, mostly out of pure desperation and need, but it later turned into something deeper, something incredible that neither of them could explain. Though they were in love they couldn't stay in Yuki's homeland, it was a sin to be in love with another man, so the young oriental grabbed whatever bits of money he could get his hands on from his more than wealthy parents and ran away with Gilbert.

Though it was far from easy the two made do with what they had and found that being together, despite Gilbert's pervyness and childishness, that they were all they needed.

"Gilbert, for the love of Christ just let me sleep." He then buried his face back into the soft pillows and prayed silently that the older man would go away.

"That's not what you said last night." Laughing lightly Gilbert creped over to Yuki and sat on the bed, placing his hands on the latter's shoulders. "Someone's really tense, is someone in need of my awesome massages?" He whispered in the smaller male's ear, feeling the other's body relax at his touch.

Rolling over to face the Prussian he gave a small glare, though it was lighthearted, "and whose fault is that and no, I don't need one, thank you very much." The picture was adorable; Yuki's cheeks were slightly flushed with a small pout playing on his lips, sprawled out on the bed like one of those centerfold girls. It made the Gilbert's mind go places that it shouldn't.

Laughing, Gilbert trailed his hands over the youth's hips in a teasing manner, eliciting a small groan from those soft lips. Yuki's emerald green eyes hazed over at the feeling of those devilish hands and bit his lips to keep anymore embarrassing noises at bay.

"But you know you love it," he leaned closer, "Mien schön Smaragd."

* * *

"Hey, Shamie, ya know where the room is?"

"For the last time Kend, not yet."

"Well excuse me for askin' a question." Shamus raised and eyebrow but let it go. His sister can be a real pain the ass at times.

The two sibilings passed a few more cramped hallways, Kendy bumping into a wavy haired French boy that seemed to be fuming about something, before they came to their room. It was small and only had a bunk bed but they didn't expect it to a palace.

"Ah this is nice~! No more walkin' or runnin' or freezin' our ass off." The espresso haired Celt sighed contently with her hands behind her head. Shamus nodded in agreement as he threw his bag on the top bunk before joining his sister on the bottom. "Yeah, it's nice, but once we get to America we're goin' to work out asses off ya know." Turning her head she gave him an 'oh really' look.

"Hey, don't give me that look."

"I an't givin' you a look, this is my normal face, wanker." She rolled off her coot and made a move for the door. "Where ya headin'?"

"Ya need ta rest so I'm goin' to explore this hunk of metal before it docks."

"Kend, it doesn't dock for another few days, we've got plenty of time." Giving him a grin she replied, "I know but I want to remember this, besides it's not every day you go on some magical ship ride to America."

Chuckling Shamus waved his sister off, "well if ya really feel that way then knock yourself out, just be back here by mor'nin." Nodding her head she skipped out the door and off on an expedition of the grandest ship in the world.

* * *

Francis Bonnefoy, a traveling artist and charmer of all things beautiful, has seen many attractive people. He's an artist, he should be able to spot eye catching sceneries and individuals but this one has taken the cake. The elder man is trying to find a lover but there are so few who are willing to speak with him. He can't imagine why.

But this one very small person might be that lover. His personality, from what he can tell, is borderline selfish and maybe a bit crazy but those eyes of his, oh God his eyes, are such a beautiful shade of violet.

He needed to talk with him.

"-that stupid German-"

"Why hello there, _mon petit cher, _what is a beautiful creature such as yourself doing around such horrible conditions?"

* * *

Ivan stared out the window of the Suit his fiancé had bought, gazing longingly at the deep blue water not far from where he stood. He wanted to be out there not here. Cooped up in little realm that's trying to swallow and tare him apart. The Russian wanted out and he wanted out _now_.

Ivan walked gracefully back to the sitting room, determined to brighten up the room with the painting he had bought not that long ago.

Art was the one thing that really brought him true joy in his miserable life.

"Where would you like this one, sir?" One of the maids asked. Not looking at her he waved over to other side of the room. "Over there but I'm looking for- oh here it is, this should give the room some color."

As he and the maid laid out the different oil paintings Natalia walked into the room and scoffed, "Oh not those finger paintings again. They certainly were a waste of money."

"The difference between Natalia tastes in art and mine is that I have some." He retorted back numbly as he placed a canvas of man with a mismatched face. "It's like something from a dream. There is truth but no logic."

"Who is the artist, sir?"

Still rummaging through the different paintings he answered back, "Something Picasso."

"Something Picasso," Natalia snorted, "he will never amount to anything, trust me." Ivan, now pissed with the way his fiancé continued to belittle, him walked out the room with a secret look of vengeance. He hated her; he wanted nothing to do with her!

"Well at least they were cheap."

* * *

**Now we have a little introduction of our other characters (fffooo I'm glad I got this out in time for the anniversary) I hope my OC's aren't mary sues (if they are tell me! blame the stupid dyslexia) but I hope all of you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Translations: **

**Mien schön Smaragd (My Beautiful Emerald) **


	5. Staring at that Boy Over There

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**HK15: Oh, before I forget, I made Winter in this story a woman to go along with the movie. **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

Later that evening, Titanic had docked along the port city of Cherbourg, France. The ship was swift like a robin in flight yet resembled a floating palace or a towering, Gothic, Cathedral. Together, Cherbourg and Titanic made a respectable couple for displaying the vast capability of the wealthy and influence.

Here, a comely young lady with jet black hair and bright brown eyes was picked up. She was wearing a gold-trimmed qipao top with very long sleeves and a long white skirt. Behind her right ear was a dark pink flower pin.

She swiftly skipped up the First Class gangplank, almost in a blur; clutching two large beige suitcases in her small hands until a stray gatekeeper came running over to assist her.

"Well it's about time!" she declared. "I've been waiting for you all day, Sonny!" Then, with surprising strength, she threw her luggage into the poor keeper's arms, inquiring, "Do you think you can manage, boy?"

The white star keeper nearly flew backwards at weight of the luggage. How could someone so small carry such a heavy load?

The woman in questions name was Xiao Mei, but everyone called her Mei for short. History would later title her as the 'Unsinkable Mei' for her bravery and courage, but for now her big brother had struck gold somewhere out West and she was on her way to meet him in California.

She was what Winter called 'New Money'. Though, in Ivan's perspective, she didn't seem bad, very independent and outspoken yes, but not bad. Why did his mother have to be such a judgmental individual?

* * *

The next day, Titanic had left its finally stop in Queenstown, Ireland, much to Shamus and Kendy's chagrin, and was now steaming out with nothing ahead of them, but open sea and the a dream of Lady Liberty…

Titanic appearance had enhanced tenfold now that she was in her natural element, in the open ocean with its cream white paint shimmered like a new penny in the gleaming sun. On the front railing, that was off limits to the passengers of the ship, clung Shamus and Kendy as their hair was whipped by the salty sea wind. Shamus leaned forward and watched as Titanic sliced through the water like a knife to butter, it was incredible to witness. Kendy giggled, in a very dignified way, when some of the access water splashed her in face.

Meanwhile, on bridge, Captain Romulus* had turned from the binnacle to address First Officer Ricimer*. "Take her to sea, Mister Ricimer."

Nodding his head, with a barely visible grin, he cranked the engine telegraph lever to _"ALL AHEAD FULL"_. In the Engine Room, the telegram clanged and moved to the new set position as the Chief Engineering Bell ordered, "ALL AHEAD FULL!"

Along the catwalk, Kiku Honda, the builder of Titanic, observed carefully and calculatedly as the engineers and greasers scrambled to adjust valves for the ship. Towering above them like skyscrapers, the twin reciprocating engines, their ten-foot-long connecting rods surged up and down with the turning of the massive crankshafts. The engines bellowed like a lion as they finally surged faster.

Captain Romulus padded from the enclosed bridge onto the wing, where he stood with his hand clasped on the rail with a proud smile. His ego seemed to give him this brilliant glow. The captain truly felt young again.

"Twenty one knots, sir!" Officer Ricimer reported to this superior.

Romulus beamed brightly as he accepted a hot cup of tea from Fifth Officer Karpusi * and watched the gleaming white "V" of water being hurled outward from the bows like an expression of his own personal power. Together, Captian Romulus and Titanic, they were almost completely invulnerable, they were God of this watery domain.

At the bow, Shamus and Kendy noticed the vessel started to pick up more speed. The smaller Celt whooped as she felt the sea wind brush through her darkly chopped hair. Taking a deep breath through her freckled nose she could smell the sea with true potency.

It was heaven.

"Hey! Hey— Kend look!" Shamus called, pointing down into the dark waters. "Look— Look they're jumping!"

"Could ya be a wee bit more specific?" Kendy yelled over the wind. Slightly deadpanning, he took her face in his hands and focused it downward.

Kendy looked down, not by her own will, with fascination as they watched a pod of dolphins leap along the sides of the ship, almost like horses hocked to a carriage.

"Hey, Shamie, why are they doin' that? Won't they get sucked into the propellers?" The Celt asked curiously.

"Don't know, maybe they just want to have a little fun ya know!" Shamus replied with an grin.

Kendy nodded, finding her brother's answer sufficient, as she pointed out into the ocean, exclaiming, "Hey! I can see the statue of freaking Liberty from here, boyo!" Her silverish green eyes were sparkling.

Shamus chuckled lightly. The younger Celt had the most vivid imagination sometimes, especially when it came to America. That was all she ever talked about, especially when they were kids. "But, if you must know all knowing brother of mine, it's very small of course!" Kendy indicated with her thumb and index finger to show the size.

The elder Celt smacked his sister on the back of the head, lightly mind you, as the two continued their heart filled laughter. It was beautiful out here and they were taking as much in as possible, knowing this would be the first and last time.

Exhilarated by the moment, and being a daredevil at heart, Shamus hopped onto the railing and held onto one of the cables for balance. Proving he wasn't as foolish as his little sister claimed him to be on occasion. When he felt he had good footing and wouldn't fall he stretched out his arms and shouted, in his home language for once, to High Heaven and the Sea with all his might and power,

_**"**__**Tá mé**__**Rí**__**an Domhai**__**n!**__**"**_

Shamus cheered and hollered, Kendy joining in at the feeling of pure excitement.

"Wooh! Wahoooo! Yah! YAHOOOO!"

They felt weightless, like birds on the horizon, nothing holding them down.

Titanic continued her way across the surface of the sea, its black pillars grazing the never ending blue sky.

* * *

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hands of man in all history!" the Managing Director of White Star Line, Brodrick Walsh*, explained to the table full of guests, his ego growing by the minute. "Our Master Shipbuilder, Mr. Honda here, designed her from the keel, plates up."

The Welsh man had indicated to a handsome young Japanese man, or he looked young, no one could tell how old he was, situated at his right. Also attending lunch in the Palm Court were Winter, Ivan, Natalia, Katyusha, Mei and Captain Romulus. The Dinning Court was perfectly poised and elegant; much liked the people it harbored away from the salty sea air, with high arched glass windows.

After Brodrick had finished his rather ego boosting speech, everyone stared curiously at the mysteriously unflustered man, who wasn't rather fond of having all the attention on himself but didn't make his complaints known.

Although he knew perfectly well how to take advantage of the situation presented to him, this wasn't one of the times. He was taught from a young age to be humble.

"Well, I may have knocked her together…" Kiku began, unusually modest for his position. "…but the idea was all Mr. Walsh's." He took an unnoticed, deep breath before continuing. Speaking in front of people was not his strong point.

"He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is—" Then slammed his hand against the solid wood table to add emphasis before continuing. "—willed into solid reality!"

"Why're all the ships being called 'she'?" Mei interrupted curiously. "Is it because men think half the women around here have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

The residents of the table remained silent, except for Ivan who gave a light chuckle, who found the statement so true it was almost painful.

Once conversation started up again, Ivan sat lifeless, like a statue, purposely ignoring everyone else at the table by drowning out their meager discussions to light murmuring in his head. As the conversation dragged on, Ivan found himself beginning to daydream. He dreamt he was living somewhere far away from the city life, someplace warm, full of sunflowers!

For once he smiled a genuine smile.

However, he was forced out of his daydream when the waiters had arrived to take orders. Just then another waiter came by and offered the Russian a shot of Vodka, straight from his homeland. Ivan found it hard to resist and accepted the small glass, snatching it up from the waiter's tray. He downed the entire glass down in one gulp, not even wincing at the harsh taste.

Ivan whipped his mouth clean with the back of his gloved hand as he handed the glass back to the awe gasped waiter.

When Ivan's focus went back to the table, it was strangely silent as every single eye was focused on him now. Something he didn't want.

"You know I hate it when you drink that worthless excuse for alcohol Ivan…" Winter glared icily at her son. That God damned stare, Ivan thought with pure venom.

Ivan, again, disregarded his mother's comment and shrugged, though his 'companion' Natalia was disturbed. Katyusha, on the other hand, looked worriedly at her brother.

"He knows better…" Natalia hissed as she shooed away the waiter, thinking it would keep her sweet Vanya from drinking more of that hideous Vodka.

The first waiter then turned to Ivan and was about to inquire what he wanted to eat when Natalia answered, "We'll have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce. You like lamb, don't you Vanya?"

Ivan scowled deepened as he glared wholes through his fiancé's face, his lilac eyes grew darker with every passing second.

Mei observed the tension between the soon-to-be couple and butted in, "Are you going to cut his meat too, Natalia?"

The anxiety between Ivan and Natalia started to lighten, so to end the heavy silence Mei turned to the other men, wondering, "Hey! Who was it who came up with the name Titanic?"

That seemed to break the tension. Ivan steely eyes shut and breathed deeply as a way to recompose, and not bite his fiancés head off.

Mei grinned at the Welsh man, "Was it you, Brodrick?" She asked curiously.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size and size means stability, luxury and most of all safety—" Brodrick boasted as he gestured with his hands.

"Do you know of a… Dr. Freud, Mr. Walsh?" Ivan abruptly spoke up from his original silence. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of a particular interest to you."

Kiku coughed as he suppressed the urge to laugh and slight blush, as did Ivan's sister, who giggled under her breathe. Captain Romulus smirked and got a pervish smile on his face, while Mei nearly busted into full out laughter.

However, Ivan's mother did not find his remark amusing or entertaining and hissed, "What in God's name has gotten into you Ivan—"

"Please, excuse me." Ivan pardoned before practically sprinting out of the lavished room.

"I do apologize, Mr. Walsh." Winter stated with sincerely.

"I don't know what has gotten into him." Natalia exclaimed as she started after the Russian's fleeing figure.

"He's a pistol Natalia." Mei commented with an all knowing grin. "You sure you can handle him?"

Natalia smirked in a very self satisfied way. "Well then, if that's the case then it's only a matter of removing the bullets."

"Freud? Who is that? A passenger?" Brodrick asked in bewilderingly as he looked about the table with slightly reddened cheeks.

* * *

After their little excursion on the front railing, Shamus and Kendy ventured back to the third class area of the ship. They currently sat on a bench in the rear section of the Titanic as the evening began to make its approach.

Shamus had his knees pulled up to chest, in an attempt to make a steady surface so he could support his faded, leather bound sketchpad. With a small, charcoal black pencil, the Celt began sketching out an emigrant boy, Lars van Rijn, and his little seven year old sister, Aurelie, who was standing on the ship's railing. Shamus observed them from afar to the point that he could sketch them with ease out their figures. Yet their positions appeared astonishingly real as if the drawing were a photograph.

He was good. Hell better than good. He was a prow and he knew it. Since Shamus had been wandering most of his life and never stayed in one place for long, he was learned to look at people in a different light. He didn't judge them by their wealth, nationality, or past deeds, he learned to judge them as they are.

As Shamus feel into his own little world Kendy would glance over the Irish boy's shoulder and smile, once again her big brother pulled off a nice one.

A few moments later they were joined by another boy, who leaned shyly against the rail across from them. He had a thick German accent and short, pale blonde hair and big jade green eyes. His name was Axel Hartmann, an emigrant from Luxembourg. He had come aboard Titanic with an old friend and had been on since she first stretched her legs.

The Luxembourgian watched skittishly as a couple of crewmen passed by them, walking three dogs of all different sizes that belonged to First Class passengers.

"Typical?" Axel mumbled under his breath, but the siblings could still hear him. "Figures they would be sending their pooches down here to take a shit."

"That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things." Shamus replied, noticing the dogs as well.

"As if we need any remindin'." Kendy snorted humorlessly with her arms draped over the back of the bench.

"Nice to meet you…" Axel began, giving his hand shyly to Kendy. "My name is Axel Hartmann. Me and my friend share the same cabin as you."

"Oh yeah…" Shamus asked, how didn't they notice them.

"Kendy…" the Celt stated. "…and boyo over there with the cool, calculating look over there is Shamus."

Shamus waved over at the German then went back to drawing.

Building up courage Axel asked, "Hey, Shamus, do you make any money off of those drawings?"

The Celt shook his with a little frown on his face. "No. I don't sadly."

Shamus trailed off when he noticed a tall figure that immediately caught his eye.

Pacing onto the aft of the B Deck was a rather attractive Russian boy, Ivan, dressed in a typical beige suit and fluttering cream scarf. For some unexplored reason, Shamus found he was unable to look away from the man. Shamus had traveled around all of Europe and had been since he was a kid; from the Northern Baltic Sea to the Nile of Egypt, from Italy to Paris, but never before had he seen such an alluring creature.

The strawberry blonde watched with surprisingly batted breath as Ivan made his way over to the cream colored railing, about forty feet from where he sat with his sister. The Russian just stood there, blankly staring off onto the horizon. He appeared almost emotionless had it not been for the hellish look he gained in his eyes.

This surprised Shamus; however this was not enough for him to look away.

The Russian took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, in an attempt to clear his head, before reopening them. That's when he got this strange feeling that someone was watching him, fearing that it might be Natalia, and looked around. His lilac orbs landed directly on Shamus.

He had caught the Celt staring curiously at him, but Shamus refused to look away or falter his gaze. He was completely captivated by the Russian.

Ivan's cheeks reddened slightly as he averted his eyes to the opposite direction, fully intending not to look back at the other's gaze. However, it wasn't very long before Ivan returned the stare. Their eyes met for the first time, blending into two different backgrounds and upbringings.

Again Ivan directed his eyes elsewhere. And this time the Russian strutted to another section of railing and situated himself there for the time being. A delightful grin stretched across Shamus' face as he watched Ivan move about.

Kendy and Axel eyed the strawberry blonde strangely, or more Axel did. Kendy was used to her brother's strange behaviors so she didn't take much notice or at least find it new. The two teens turned around trying to find what caught Shamus' attention. When Axel realized it was the handsome young man, he couldn't help but snicker. Ciel's influence on him was starting to rear its ugly head. Kendy soon noticed the Russian as well and began staring back and forth between the young man that couldn't have been older than her and her brother.

It was as if there was nothing holding him down anymore. Shamus simply could not remove his gaze from Ivan. To Shamus, and he's giving a very rough estimate, he appeared to be no older than eighteen maybe a little younger than Kendy, but he seemed quite tall for his age though he was about the same as the Celt himself. The Russian would periodically check to see if the strange steerage passenger was still staring at him, and sure enough he was. Why was he starting at him, he thought curiously.

After what seemed like hours to Ivan, and what felt like minutes to Shamus, he stared back at him. Ivan began to allowed himself to rest his arms over the railing as he leaned forward more, observing the strawberry blonde.

Ivan was immediately felt attraction towards Shamus and after a few seconds of scrutinizing him with his eyes he smirked seductively.

_'His hair is red- no blonde- no… maybe both.'_ Ivan thought, crossing his arms as he tilted forward more. _'And his eyes are stunning… a topaz blue defiantly… I don't think I have seen such a strong color before…'_

However, their passionate staring contest was cut short when Kendy gave an almighty smacked to the back of Shamus' head and shouted, "BOYO! Ya home or did ya go on wee walk, eh?"

Ivan gave a soft snort as he refocused his attention elsewhere. Shamus noticed the Russian's reaction and smiled dreamily though on the inside he was pouting. But, he concluded, his staring hadn't been for nothing.

"Oh, forget about him, Shamus!" Axel began. "Angel wings will sooner sprout out of your arse before that boy gives you the time of day." Kendy concluded, in her own vulgar way, and gave Axel a knowing grin which he returned.

"What? Who said I liked bloke and don't even start Kend?" Shamus panicked as he returned to his sketching, pretending his annoying little sister and new found friend didn't exist and weren't poking fun at him, though periodically glancing up at the mysterious teen not far away.

"Oh, Shamus." Axel sighed.

"Chances are Shamus—" Kendy insisted. "—he has a beautiful young lass waiting for him back inside."

Shamus sat his leather bound sketchpad on his lap and gave the two a look as if he had no idea what they were talking about. His sister didn't take 'bullshit' as she referred to it, like that too well.

Axel shifted his green eyes back to the young man and stated with a sad sigh, "Speak of leaping the devil."

Just as Axel said this, Natalia strutted gracefully out onto the deck, demanding that she and Ivan have a little chat. It appeared that Ivan was trying to politely to decline her request but was met with a heavy back lash from the tenacious female. He walked away with a new found thorn in his side, not once did he look back at either Natalia or Shamus, making the poor man feel empty without the other's staring.

"Sorry Shamus…" Kendy muttered sympathetically to her brother, all teasing gone from her voice as Shamus dropped his eyes back down to his sketchpad.

His head in his hands.

* * *

… **and I freaking did it! Who would of thunk I would get this chapter done in time and what do you know I did it! Sorry about that, I tend to babble when I get excited but anyways just to clarified something's, **

**Clarifying!: **

**Captain Romulus*: the Roman Empire **

**First Officer Ricimer*: Germania **

**Fifth Officer Karpusi *: Ancient Greece**

**Brodrick Walsh: Wales  
**

**Thank you all for reading and, if you can, please review or PM me!**


	6. You Jump I Jump

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**HK15: just to make something clear there is an already preexisting fic like this (it inspired me to make my own) it's called A Night I Will Never Forget. It's a Prussia/Russia Fic so if you guys want to read something fantastic then I defiantly recommend it. **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany)**

* * *

It was later that evening when Ziva and Antonio finally emerged from their room. Being three months pregnant, the Israeli's apatite increase tenfold and the prospect of seeing the first class where enough to drag her out of the ever so comfortable bed. Whether she admitted it or not, Ziva was quiet fascinated by the wealthy, their mannerism, and how they ran their own little society. Sure she grew up in a slightly comfortable home but it was nothing compared to this.

"Toni, do you think we'll see Mr. Walsh or –no- Mr. Honda, the builder of the ship?" She asks as they strolled over to their own little section of the ship. He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know Zizi, but I'm sure their food is nothing compared to the second class can provide." He joked.

Giggling she links her arm with his as they made their way past the lively party of the first class. "But haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to live like that? Nothing but parties and gatherings, dressing in the finest of fabrics- oh and little to no money problems to worry about!"

"Seems like someone has given this first class business some thought."

"Not exactly. Personally I wouldn't want to live it but it's very entertaining to watch."

With that the couple finally made it to the second class dining quarters, only to see a small Asian teen and albino running down the deck.

* * *

"Gilbert Weilschmidt! Get back here!" Yuki was at his wits end. After attempting to get some much need food from the dining hall of the second class Gilbert's sense of 'secrecy' seemed to fail him. When the latter wasn't looking he snuck up on him and kissed Yuki on the cheek. Normally, while in bed, it wouldn't be a problem but they were in public, it's a completely different story.

If someone found out they could be hanged or worse, why can't the albino see that?

"Oh come on Yuki it was all in good fun, keeseeese~!" Gilbert cackled as the smaller man chased him up and down the deck. The two ran into a girl with curly brown hair and tanned skin, knocking her down. "Ow, my poor little bum." She moaned as she rubbed the soar part of her body.

Next to her were the boys that knocked into her, both piled on top of each other with slightly dazed looks.

Antonio's emerald green eyes flared at the two people that knocked his soon- to- be wife to the ground, what if they had hurt the baby?

"What was that for? Watch where you're going!" He yelled. The strangely paired couple finally snapped out of their daze and realized who they just knock down. Or… at least Yuki did. "Oh my I'm so sorry Miss; I-I didn't mean to run into y-you!" He stuttered as he got untangled from the crazed albino.

Giving a nervous laugh, Ziva pulled herself up, with the help of Antonio, who was still glaring daggers at the two. "Not to worry, I get tackled all the time. But-"she placed a hand over her stomach, thankfully feeling light flutters of her baby's movements, "oh, don't worry we're both fine, just a bit of a bum ache that's all." Gilbert's eyebrows arched in confusion before he finally put two and two together.

"Wait a minute… your-"

"Yep, three months along if you wanted to know." She grinned. Yuki and Gilbert looked shocked, for one the lady hadn't attacked for possible hurting herself and baby or started throwing her shoes at them but they couldn't really say the same for her husband.

Sensing Antonio's seething she patted his shoulder, "Don't worry Toni, it was merely an accident, besides the baby is safe." His glare lightened and it almost faded when Yuki had apologized for bumping into Ziva.

Antonio wasn't a cruel man, oh no, he just wanted his fiancé safe and happy and their child to be as well.

"Well, as long as you and the baby are alright, I can let it go."

"Yay~! If you two want to join us we were going to get a bite to eat and- wow," she paused when she felt a very strong flutter, "hehe I think the baby's hungry too. But, as I was saying, if you two want to join us we would be glad to have you."

Gilbert thought it over for a moment and gave a nod. "Sure, the awesome me and Yuki would like that." He then grabbed said Thai boy's hand and they walked alongside the Mediterranean couple, fully set on getting some food.

* * *

"Hey, Ccccccciiiiiiieeeeeeelllllll, where are you?" A certain Luxembourgian called in his best French as he searched for his young friend. He hasn't seen him all day, which is rare considering how loud he was, and it was starting to worry him. Axel checked the third class dining hall, the Stern, and any other place the Frog would go.

"Hm, this is hopeless," he pouted slightly as he leaned against one of the walls out on the deck, looking out into the night sky. It was so peaceful, only the sound of the wind broke the silence. Axel closed his eyes in contentment and let out a tired sigh. Okay, maybe Ciel wondering off isn't-

"Well, lookie at what we've got here." Wait, who the hell is that, Axel thought.

"What a pretty little flower, can I touch it?" Oh crap, he thought as his eyes snapped open and straightened his slouched position.

Leaning the railing were two very drunk men. Both of them looked to be in their late twenties, but with the creepy smirks it didn't really cross the Germanic's mind. He eminently got into a boxers stance and put his arms up for defense.

"Please, go away; I don't want to fight you." Axel said as calmly as possible. The young man hated fighting but he would not just sit there unprotected. If it came down to it he would take one down with him.

The man chuckled though they sounded more like hiccups. "e's a feisty one an't 'e." The other elbowed his accomplice as they started to advance on the smaller male. He may be tall compare to Ciel, who fairly tinny for his age, but compared to these guys he's a pipsqueak.

"Hey, what part of back off don't you understand? I said leave me alone!" The threat didn't stop the two predators, if anything it made them advances faster. Axel had to back up to the cream white walls in an attempt to get away from them but they had boxed him in. If only he had gotten out of there when he had the chance!

"Eh, not so tough now are ya, cutie." One of them slurred as he placed a hand on the others pale face. It made Axel gag; the guys breathe smelt of cheep beer and fish. Slapping the hand away, he pushed and shoved against the man that was starting to pin him against the wall. He only succeeded in knocking him back a small distance and making him more aggressive.

"I said leave me alone!" Axel gave one more shout, hoping someone would hear him.

One of them grabbed his hips while the other took hold of his arm, pulling roughly. Was this really going to be the way he lost his virtue, Axel thought fearfully as he continued to struggle.

Before one who had his hip could do anything further he was met with a fist to the face, sending him flying into the railing, letting go of the blonde in the process. He placed a hand on his cheek, after recovering from the blow and felt blood under his finger tips. Feeling drunken rage swell he charged at Axel's rescuer. The drunkard was met with another punch only this time it was to his stomach before he was once again thrown ungracefully into the railing of the ship.

His drunken friend gasped, how in the name of sweet Jesus did this bloke take down his friend so easily. Letting out a battle cry of sorts, he charged at the mysterious man, or at least Axel assumed it was a man, but was taken down by a round house kick to the chest. Stumbling to his feet he tried to regian his balance but was met with the same fist that dealt his partner in. The two men laid in heap, beaten down by the man that saved Axel.

Said Luxembourgian was in shock, not only from being molested but by the man who saved him. Looking up with slightly teary eyes he saw what had to be the most intimidating, and handsome, man he had ever seen. His pale blonde hair was slicked back into a clean style and his naturally pale German skin almost seemed to glow in the dark evening. He had the body of a weightlifter; he could probably carry Axel like a baby and feel no strain. The mystery man's sharp blue eyes seemed to stare right through him, almost as if he was trying to figure him out.

"-uo alright?"

"Huh?" Great he had been speaking the entire time! Looking down strangely on the eighteen year old he repeated his question. "I asked are you alright?" He said once again in a very firm voice.

Slightly scared Axel answered back, "Um y-yes I'm al-alright."

Gently reaching out a hand he helped the smaller Germanic up from his spot on the ground. "Are you sure, after what those men almost did?" He had a German accent, thought Axel.

Shakily he replied, "Really I-I'm alright thanks t-to you. Thank you for saving me." The Luxembourgian said clearer, finding it easier to speak with the intimidating man. Looking down at their still intertwined hands he felt a bit awkward, "Mien name ist Axel, what's your?"

The strange man seemed slightly taken aback but kept composer, "Vergnügen, Sie kennenzulernen, Axel. Mein Name ist Ludwig Weilschmidt." (Pleasure to meet you, Axel. My name is Ludwig Weilschmidt)

* * *

Ivan saw his whole life placed out before him, as if he had already lived it. An endless parade of carriage rides, parties, special gathering, and with Natalia as his wife. It had always been the same narrow-minded people, the same mindless chatter. He felt as though he were falling into a precipice with no one to pull him out, no who cared… no one who noticed…

It was evening as everyone was chatting mindlessly over dinner, the aristocrats going on and on over the most trivial of subjects. Beneath the table, however, Ivan clandestinely held a steak knife he had snatched from the set in front of him. Uncaringly, he dug the sharp metal into his skin, pushing it harder and harder until he felt the stickiness of his blood on his fingertips, leaving a dark stain on his white shirt sleeve…

… Ivan felt nothing…

In a fit of masked disgust, Ivan excused himself returned his cabin. He stood before his large vanity mirror, staring blankly at his reflection he felt something coursed through his body, making his throat feel dry. Ivan snapped…

He let out an unearthly, almost animalistic cry and, in a desperate frenzy; he fiercely clawed at his evening wear like it was on fire. His cry began to turn to anguished hollering as he hurled his cufflinks at the vanity mirror, cracking it…

"I- I can't do it…" Ivan's voice cracked, much like the mirror, as he glared into the broken glass with glassed over eyes.

Before Ivan knew what he was doing, he found himself racing down the decks of Titanic, his bright blonde tresses whipping against his face. He bit his lip to keep the sobs at bay, clutching his bleeding hand. He felt so lightheaded, the bottled up emotions he didn't understand had resurface with a vengeance; worry, blood curtailing hatred, pure depression, but most importantly desperation.

Ivan shoved past an elderly first class couple, not even stopping to apologize. The woman was completely outraged and disgusted by his deep display of emotions.

Meanwhile, on the Stern section of Titanic, Shamus was laying back against one of the benches as he watched the endless amount of stars above him. He often wondered if one of those stars was his mother, who died in child birth almost eighteen years ago. Still looking up at the endless sky he pulled out the cigarette he had been smoking as he thought about the mysterious boy he had seen earlier.

'Oh, forget about him ya git_…'_ Shamus scolded himself. He then remembered what Kendy had said earlier that day_'_ Angel wings will sooner sprout out of your arse before that boy gives you the time of day.'

"Guess you're right sis…" The Celt mumbled to himself.

Then suddenly, the strawberry blonde heard a sound of pounding footsteps. He sat up imminently and looked around only to notice the young Russian from early dashing with all his might down the stairs that led to the Stern's Deck.

Though the two were the only one out there, Ivan was not aware of Shamus' presence as he rushed right past him.

Ivan dashed straight down the deck, no longer able to suppress his grief and anger. A few moments later, he slammed himself against the railing of the stern, a flagpole to his right. Ivan stood there, desperately clinging to the cream railing with all his strength, panting.

He stared down at the deep, black water with dulled eyes.

He felt nothing… he was lifeless…

The Russian started to clime clumsily over the railing. Ivan turned his body around and rested his shaking feet on the white-painted gunwale, his back now turned from the railing, while he faced the wide open ocean. Leaning forward slightly, he figured it was at least a fifty-foot drop or so down to the bottom, to his watery grave. He could barely make out the propellers churning the seawater rapidly before the sea foam drifted off before disappearing. 'Just like me.' He thought bitterly.

Ivan felt tears start to stream down his face as he straightened his arms, his cream colored scarf and platinum hair swirled around from the wind created by the ship. The only sound he could hear was the rushing water down below and the stiff fluttering of Union Jack next to him. Ivan loosened his grip slight and closed his eyes, the tears having increased, just as he was about to let go of the railing and give his life to the sea.

"Don't do it!" he heard someone shout behind him.

"Stay back!" Ivan threatened, turning his head sharply towards the person that dared to distract him. "Don't come any closer!"

Shamus was shocked by the Russian's reaction. Cautiously and with care, he extended out his arm, offering his hand pale hand to the distressed teen. "Come on and take my hand. I'll pull ya back in, don't worry."

"Stay away from me! I mean it! I'll let go!" Ivan threatened once more, looking back down to the water.

Shamus pulled his hand back to this side, examining the situation as best he could. The Celt gave a slight grin before crossing his arms over his chest. "Sorry mate but I don't believe ya will."

Ivan was awe gasped. "What do you mean I won't?" The Russian felt completely insulted, especially with the way the man was talking to him. "Don't just presume you know anything about me! I will let go!"

While Ivan talked, or more screeched, Shamus began inching his way over to him, and now stood only about three feet away.

"Uh, no ya won't—" Shamus stated again, though it was firmer this time. "—if ya really wanted to… ya would have done it by now." The Celt offered his hand once more. "Come on. Just take my hand and I'll pull ya back over."

Ivan could barely make out the man he was talking to and paused to rub his tear filled eyes, almost losing his balance. The startled Celt took a giant leap forward in an attempt to catch Ivan, only to find he still had his balance. Now Shamus was a lot closer, so close that it was enough for him to simply grab Ivan and pull him back in without much trouble. However, being who he was, Shamus decided against it. Instead he grinned kindly and offered his hand again. This time, however, he remained silent and merely motioned with his hand, grinning brightly while his deep blue eyes as he watch his movements carefully.

Ivan eyed Shamus strangely when he noticed the Irish man's eyes. "You're the man who wouldn't stop staring at me a few hours ago…" He stated.

Shamus smiled cheekily, showing off his surprisingly straight teeth, "And what if I am, it could be any other man?"

Ivan beamed for a brief moment, transfixed by the other's blue eyes, before snapping out his trance and shouting, "You're simply distracting me! Just go away!"

"Well, I can't now." Shamus gave a light shrug, almost as if he was having a normal conversatioin. "We had had a legitimate conversation. I'm involved and ya know it. If ya let go, then I'm jumpin' in after ya." He explained as if this was his only choice.

"Don't be absurd! You'll be killed!" Ivan sounded concerned for the steerage man.

"Well, I don't know if ya noticed but, being the full blooded Irish man I am I'm a great swimmer." Shamus chuckled jokingly as he removed his jacket and vest. He then started working on unlacing his boots.

"But the fall alone will kill you!" Ivan insisted, attempting to lure the Celt away from trying to jump after him.

"Yeah, it'll hurt…" Shamus nodded toward the dark water as he threw his boot over to his jacket and vest. "I'm not gonna be a wanker about it and lie to ya, it will hurt more than what did that to your hand…" He tossed his right shoe next to where his jacket lay and continued. 'How did he see that,' Iva wondered as he stared down at his blood covered hand, "But what I'm more concerned about is the water so being cold."

Ivan gazed down before gulping, "H-how c-cold…?" If there's one thing Ivan hated it was the cold.

"Freezing! Maybe a few degrees over… but that would if the Luck of the Irish were on our side but I doubt it." Shamus proclaimed, starting on his left shoe. "Ever been to Ireland?"

"Of course I have!" Ivan cried, facing Shamus with narrowed lilac eyes. "I'm Russian for Christ's sake! I know what the cold is like! I'm not an ignorant Boyar!"

"Hey! Wow— excuses me your highness!" Shamus chuckled apologetically as he flung his left shoe over his shoulder and into his pile of clothes. "Eh, just thought ya looked a bit sheltered, more of an indoors kind of guy? Ya know, the type that probably doesn't know very much about being stuck out in the cold."

"Believe me, sir; I know plenty about the cold." Ivan assured Shamus with bitterness in his voice.

"Well, anyway, once when I was a kid, I went ice fishing with my dad and little sister… Ice fishing is where you cut a hole in the ice—"

"I know what ice fishing is!" Ivan yelled on the top of his lungs.

"For the Love of Mary— Sorry! Well to make long story short, my sister, Kendy, fell through some thin ice and I jumped in after her. Now let me tell ya about that water…" Shamus' eyes looked over the railing. "… like the water right down there… it just, it just—"

"—hits you like a thousand needles all over your body. You can't breathe… you can't think… about anything but the pain…" Ivan finished for him.

Shamus stared at Ivan with surprise; this guy was defiantly something else.

"I had a similar experience when I was younger only it was I that fell in, not my sister… I hate the cold." Ivan trembled.

"Well, in any case, that's the reason why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But, like I said, I don't really have a choice here. I was kind of hoping you'll climb back over the railing and get me off the hook here so I can go get some sleep and make sure my little sis hasn't gotten into trouble."

"Why you! You're crazy!" Ivan shouted in disbelief.

"That's what everyone keeps saying, especially Kendy, but, with all due respect, sir… I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship…" Shamus whispered lowly as he walked closer. "Come on… I know you don't really want to do this. It's a very big decision and one ya can't take back. Please, give me your hand and I'll pull you back over, alright."

For the last time and final time, Shamus offered up his hand. Ivan stared at the 'crazed nut' for the longest time. His lavender orbs focused on nothing but the Celt's oceanic ones… And for strange reason Ivan felt, surprisingly… wanted and safe with this strange man.

"Okay…" Ivan finally gave in to the other's wishes and swung one arm around, reaching for Shamus' hand.

Shamus quickly responded and clasped onto Ivan's hand, making sure the hold was firm, before allowing him to swing his leg over to keep himself balanced.

"By the way, the names Shamus, Shamus Shepherd." He smiled, locking eyes with Ivan's.

Ivan flushed at little, and would later blame it on the cold, before smirking back as he greeted, "Privyet, Ivan. Ivan Braginsky." Ivan smiled kindly in response, the red blonde's smiles were quiet contagious.

"Nice name but I think you'll need to write down your last one." Shamus chuckled.

"Are you always like this?" Ivan wondered aloud.

"Like what?"

"Smiley, happy, a bit full of yourself?"

"Well if you by charming and heroic then yes, yes I am." he winked.

"Good…" Ivan smiled as he lifted his right foot, starting to climb up the railing.

Suddenly, Ivan's foot slipped against the rail as he started to plunge downward towards the icy water. Ivan let out an ear-piercing scream as Shamus jerked forward, slamming against the banister of the ship. Their tightly clasped hands were the only thing keeping the Russian from plummeting to his death.

With his only free hand, Ivan managed to grab a hold of the bottom rail and held on to it for dear life, but he was still terrified out of his mind. This is it, he's going to die!

An officer on another deck not far from the two heard Ivan's cry and rushed over as quickly as he could to help.

"HELP!" Ivan hollered on the top of his lungs.

"I've got you! I won't let go, I promise!" Shamus assured him as he tugged on Ivan's arm with all his strength, bracing himself against the railing with his other hand to give him leverage.

Ivan frantically tried to find footing on the sleek haul, but it made Shamus' job a whole lot harder. Shamus tried to yank Ivan over the railing again, but the young Russian's shoes kept slipped just as he had found his footing and he fell back for a second time. Ivan cried out even harder.

"Don't ya dare give up on me! Come on, Ivan! I can't do all the damn work!" Shamus yelled over the wind.

He grabbed the Russian's slightly ripped shirt as Ivan flailed his legs around. Somehow, the Celt found the strength to pull Ivan over the railing and to safety, but as he did so they spun around and collapsed in a heap on the deck. Somehow, and the Celt is starting to wonder if the universe is laughing at him, Shamus ended up landing on top of Ivan, just as the officers reached them.

"W'll, wh't's gon' 'n h're?" he inquired with a thick Swedish accent.

The blonde, spectacle officer eyed Shamus crossly, which was freaky as hell, and yanked the panting and slightly shaken Celt off of Ivan.

Then he turned to the young Russian, who was panting just as erratically, except his clothes appeared as if they had been ripped apart and at the sight of the blood his mind started to venture. The officer glanced back at the grimy dressed Steerage man, whose clothes were scattered across the deck, and came to a conclusion.

"St'nd b'ck!" the officer shouted fiercely, shoving Shamus back as he whipped out his staff. "D'n't y'u m've a m'scle!"

"Well an't this lovely." He mumbled under his breath.

"Wait!" Ivan yelled as he tried to reach Shamus, but he was held back by the officer.

"D'n't w'rry, s'n. H' c'n't h'rt y'u an'm're!" the officer snapped directing the staff at the Celt's head. The officer obviously had really poor people skills, which showed in how he reacted.

Out of the darkness came two crewmembers, practically flying onto he deck, and demanded to know what all the yelling was about, to which the reserved officer replied, "G't th' M'ster 'f 'rms!"

Somehow, Shamus had a feeling in his gut that this would not end well…

* * *

**Yay I'm done! I hope you all like the chapter and you guys have any suggestion please review or PM me. Ludwig and Gilbert are not brothers in this story, it would be weird if one was in second class and the other in third so I'll just leave that they're childhood friends. Also if my OC's are mary sues TELL ME! I DON'T WANT TO BE THE HORRIBLE WRITER AND MAKE A CRAPPY CHARACTER! Thank you for reading! **


	7. The Invitation and Cheap Beer

**Disclaimer: I don't own, I repeat, don't own Hetalia or Titanic. If I did I probably would have ruined them and have a mob of people chasing me with cabbages. **

**HK15: This was based off of another very awesome fic but, just to make sure I'm not plagiarizing, I do not own the idea for Russia taking the part of Rose. Whoever I do own my characters (Kendy, Shamus, Ziva Ect.) Hope you all enjoy the chapter! **

**Parings: Kendy (S. Ireland)x Alfred (America), Yuki (Thailand)x Gilbert (Prussia), Ziva (Israel)x Antonio (Spain), Shamus (N. Ireland)x Ivan (Russia), Ciel (New France)x Francis(France), Axel (Luxembourg)x Ludwig (Germany) **

* * *

"So… you're an artist?" Ciel asked unamusedly.

"_Mon cher, _the word artist does not describe what I can do." Francis purred at the blonde who sat next to him. They were currently outside by the railing, enjoying the sea breeze and the millions of stars. "Whatever, it's the same thing and, besides, my vocab isn't too great."

The younger blonde was a bit nervous being around Francis, his predo alarm was going haywire, but he was curious of him.

Most people, besides Axel of course, were easily driven away by his… _attitude but_ the elder Frog didn't seem to mind, yet.

It's only a matter of time, thought Ciel.

Deciding to put his theories to the test he quipped, "Well, if you're some big hot shot why don't you draw something interesting?"

Francis raised an eyebrow but didn't bark back at Ciel like most would; very few could handle the blonde's attitude. Instead he pulled out his sketch book and charcoal penile and started sketching with what light the lap above them offered.

Slightly disgruntled, the French boy turned his gaze away with a huff from Francis and to the skyline. It was covered with millions, maybe even billions, of little lights. They almost reminded him of fireflies. Oh how he loved those cute little light bugs! One day, he thought, when he gets to America he'll live near them and see them every night.

He whipped his shoulder length hair out of his face when the wind started to blow it in his eyes.

"_Mon petit cher, _do not move your head," snapping out of his daydream he returned his dark violet gaze to the man next to him, finding a finished drawing in his grasp. His eyes widened at the sketch.

The portrait was of Ciel staring off into the evening but what really caught his attention was how he was portrayed. His usually prattish, snotty face was calm and unwrinkled, nostalgic, almost dreamy. His curly blonde hair was out of place and wild, much like is personality while his clothes showed that he hadn't a penny to his name.

It was perfect in Ciel's eyes. For once he wasn't portrayed as the pouty little French boy with no family.

"I-It's beautiful," he whispered making Francis chuckle. Ciel then snapped out of his reminiscing and replaced the awe gasped look with a pout.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"Because, you look so cute with that grin."

"Well-"

"I said leave me alone!" Ciel was cut off by a loud shout. He jumped in his seat as did Francis. They were about to run over to see what the commotion was about when a blonde haired man came barreling down their strip.

* * *

"This is absolutely unacceptable!" Natalia screeched on the top of her lungs as the Master of the Arms handcuffed Shamus, who grimaced at the loud yelling and the cuffs pinching his wrists. 'Damn, that hurt,' he thought as he shifted his hands.

The gentlemen and few first class women that had shown up lacked their coats, suggesting they had rushed out to the Stern as soon as they had heard what 'happened'. Natalia was still in her evening dress but the glare she held made the Celt shiver. This was not some sweet little lass, this was monster.

One of the present gentlemen, Feliks Łukasiewicz, had offered some Brandy to the shaken Russian. Ivan shook his head and pushed away the hard liquor.

The Belarusian paced back and forth before her temper broke loose. "How dare you think you can put your hands all over my Vanya!" She then grabbed him by the collar and started shaking him wildly.

Shamus was shaking all over. The young Celt has been to many places and has seen many people, but on a range of sico's this lady took the cake. 'And I thought Kendy was scary, this lass is insane!' he thought.

Shamus kept quiet though, but peered over at Ivan, still very worried about the teen's condition. Seeing that the steerage man was staring at her fiancé her rage and thirst for blood only increased.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Natalia screamed.

"Natalia…" Ivan started but was unheard.

"You worthless piece of filth, putting your dirty hands on my Vanya!"

"Natalia! Stop It! It was an accident!" Ivan yelled on the top of his lungs, startling poor Yao.

Natalia ceased her shaking of Shamus for a brief moment and glanced over at her fiancé. Shamus, who appeared a bit dazed and queasy from all the shaking, did so as well.

"What?" Natalia and Shamus asked in unison.

"It was accident."

"An accident?" Natalia gave a slightly insane chuckle as she looked between Shamus and Ivan.

"Of course! It was stupid really…" Ivan admitted. "I was leaning over the rail and I just slipped. You know with my height, and I wasn't aware of how far I was leaning over."

"Why were you leaning over the railing, Vanya?" Natalia asked, almost as if she were talking to three year old. The Russian had to suppress the need to roll his eyes.

Peering discreetly at Shamus he received some much need eye contact.

"I was leaning over, because I wanted to see the uhm… the uhm…"

"Propellers?" Tino, one of the guards, stated in deep confusion. Who in their right mind would lean over so far as to nearly fall to their death to see propellers?

"Ah, da, the propellers, and I would have gone overboard had it not been for Mr. Shepherd here who almost went over himself."

"You were leaning forward to see the propellers? He was leaning forward to see the propellers!" Natalia said; half amused half confused. Why would her precious Vanya come all the way out here in the cold just to see those damned propellers?

She would need to keep an exceptionally good eye on for him as of now and by exceptionally she would need to get little Toris to follow him, one of the man servants.

Ah, it's nice having power over that Lithuanian, she thought.

"Sw're, Russ'an 'nd m'ch'nery d'n't m'x!" the Swede mumbled with a fidgeting Finnish guard at this side.

"Oh don't say things like that Berwald!" Tino gave him a light punch to the shoulder but was still met with the same stoic look.

Tino, putting on a surprising scary scowled asked Shamus threateningly, "Is that what really happened, Mr. Shepherd?"

The Celt glanced at Ivan, who looked like he was three seconds away from falling to his knees in begging him not to tell about what really happened. Shamus stared back Natalia, Tino, and Berwald before replying confidently, "Ya bet your arse that's what happened! Ya heard what the lad over there?"

When the guards were convinced, and Natalia _appeared _convinced, Shamus peered at the Russian and thought, 'Damn it! Look at what you got yourself into, ya wanker! Now you have to keep what happened here on the down low. How in the name of hell am I going to keep this from Kendy?'

"Well then, this young man is a hero! Well done!" the small Fin congratulated him, slapping the Celt surprisingly hard on the back.

"Yowch…" Shamus groaned, but was silently shocked. For someone so small and surprisingly cute he sure hit hard.

Berwald sighed and began to uncuff Shamus, mumbling something about 'Th're s'meth'ng str'ng' 'bout th's g'y' and 'I d'n't tr'st th's g'y.

Natalia went over to her fiancé; more like power walked, and stated, "Come along Vanya. You're freezing." Again with that tone, Ivan seethed.

The Belarusian spun around and began pulling his back inside with the other first class passengers. She didn't want to think about that steerage man, who got to touché Ivan more than she ever did.

"Perhaps, like, a little something for the boy, Natalia?" Feliks nodded his head over to the Irish man.

"Oh but, of course. Toris," she pointed lazily to said man servant," a twenty should do." Quickly, and without hesitation, he went rummaging through his mistresses coat, in sure of the bill.

"So a twenty is the going rate for saving your fiancé's life?" Ivan stated with a bit of disgust in his voice.

"Ah, Ivan is displeased… hmm… what to do?" Natalia thought aloud. She then glanced back at Shamus with a slightly hidden devious look.

The Celt was shrugging on his jacket when Natalia glided over to him, asking, "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to regale our group of your heroic tale?"

Shamus eyed the Belarusian curiously but then shrugged in a carefree way, "Ya sure… why not."

"Good. Then it's settled." Turning around with a swoosh of her evening dress and walked away with Ivan, the Master of the Arms and the Swede.

"This should be quiet amusing don't you think?" The Belarusian whispered menacingly in the ear of the Polish man.

Shamus gave a heavy sigh as he crouched down to his shoes and started to put them back on, while the group of gentlemen and lady strode down the deck. When he finally stood up, Shamus realized that Ivan was staring at him and blinding smile.

Shamus couldn't help but get a fluttery feeling in his stomach and returned the gesture. The Celt blew a kiss, much like he saw a French man do to some ladies in his time at Paris; and winked causing the young Russian giggle as he disappeared down the stairs.

Shamus whistled to Toris, who was slowly trailing behind them, once the group had left his sight.

"Oi! Can I bum ya a smoke?" Shamus asked.

Toris huffed and drew out a sleek silver box from his mistresses coat pocket, snapping it open. Shamus snagged two cigarettes. He plopped one behind his ear, saving it for later and knowing Kendy might want one, and popped the other he had grabbed into his mouth.

The Lithuanian tucked the box back into Natalia's coat before pulling out a lighter and lighting the Irish man's cigarette.

"You might want to tie those…" Toris indicated, nodding his head toward Shamus' boots.

Shamus looked down at his shoes, which were indeed untied and thought, 'Shit he's observant…'Said Celt gave him a grin in thanks but that didn't seem to amuse Toris.

"Interesting… the young man slipped so suddenly, yet you still had time to take off your jacket and your shoes." Toris eyed him skeptically but turned on his heels and rejoined the others.

Shamus watched cautiously as Toris walked down the Stern of the ship until he disappeared for sight. After he was positive the first class passengers were Shamus groaned out with a tired expression, "I'm the world's biggest idiot! I hope I didn't just damn myself."

* * *

Kendy Shepherd is what most would call a social butterfly, when she wanted to be, and this is one of those moments. Problem is there is no one willing to talk to her, or, at least the female population. Most of the third class women that she tried to make conversation with would either give her disapproving looks or ignored her completely.

It was starting to wear on her nerves.

"Oi, I'm try'in to talk to ya lady! Ever heard of a little thing called decency?" She bellowed, a little buzzed from the cheap beer she and one other man guzzled down.

The woman glanced back at her with a firm frown and scolded, "You should know better than to dress like that, you are a woman and should dress as such."

"Oh, and dress like a clown? Hell no!" She argued back.

The group that she had been trying to speak with moved away from her but she could hear one of the joke, "No wonder she doesn't have husband. It wouldn't surprise me if she never finds one." The other women nodded in agreement, leaving a very numb Kendy in their wake.

Whether she admits it or not those words hurt, maybe not as much as falling into ice cold water, but the two are fairly close in comparison. Kendy may dress like a boy but she's still a girl, a girl who has her own little dreams that others of her gender share.

Pushing the thought aside she went outside to take a breather when she bumped into someone. "Sorry about that!" She said and found that she had run into a tall, blonde haired man. He almost looked British but he didn't have that dirty London air about him that almost reminded her of an old people's home.

"Oh don't worry about it, dude! The hero is alright." He cheered, almost childishly, as he patted her on the back. His accent was defiantly not from Europe that much she could tell. It was loser, more carefree and almost… bouncy? Nah, that isn't the right word but it felt… freer, yeah freer!

"-ed F. Jones, what's yours!"

"What?" Shit, I spaced out, she thought. Damn, she feels like a little school girl who is, but shouldn't, mapping out the new kid. Okay, she takes that back, he is defiantly not a kid; hell he's almost six foot three which made her feel puny in comparison.

Raising an eyebrow he repeated, "My name is Alfred F. Jones, what's yours?"

With a grin she grabbed his hand as gave a strong shake. "The names Kendy Shepherd, nice to meet you."

* * *

**And I'm going to end it here. But, please, let me know if one of my original characters is starting to act like a Sue or a Stew. Thank you for reading! **


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